Today’s the day. It’s my first day in the gym.

Growing up, I had a great metabolism. I could eat whatever and whenever I wanted and would only fluctuate between 120-125 pounds. But now? As soon as I think about chocolate, I can feel the pounds being added onto my waist.

But enough is enough. After my interaction with Sandy a few days earlier, I made up my mind to change. I wanted to look better and more importantly, feel better than I did after my 40th birthday where my knees sounded like July 1 fireworks.

Nervous, I grabbed my water bottle and slowly made my way towards the gym, with anxiety and pounding heart. Part of me wanted to turn back around and run to my car; the other part of me was questioning why I was feeling nervous. I continued the long trek towards the entrance that was really only long in my mind.

I walked in, warmly greeted by the two attendants at the front desk. I scanned my card and they said, “Welcome Sue, we see that this is your first time! Would you like a tour of the gym to get familiarized with the equipment?”

I agreed and Nicole happily skipped around the desk to start the tour. I was feeling knots in my stomach as I turned the corner, nervous of what I would see. Was I too old to be there? I don’t even know what to do. I don’t know how to use the equipment. Will I embarrass myself? Worst yet, will I injure myself?

The intrusive thoughts running through my mind were interrupted by Nicole’s voice. “Most people like to start with some cardio.” She pointed to the treadmill and the bicycles. “But, if this is your first time, I’d avoid that one…” She was pointing to the StairMaster.

She kept pointing to different equipment, but I stopped listening to her because I had fixated on the StairMaster. My 53-year-old sister would brag how many steps she would do on that thing. And well, I was here to challenge myself, right?

After the tour was finished, I looked around as to where to start. To my surprise, there was a wide range of different body types and age demographics. For some reason, I was thinking that the gym would be filled with a bunch of young perky and fit people but there wasn’t. I was worried about being the one middle-aged, out-of-shape woman.

I snapped out of my daydream and looked around trying to figure out where to start. I was drawn to the StairMaster. I walked over to the middle machine, that was the only one available. To my right was a young 20-something girl, who had been on it for 36 mins. To my left, was a middle-aged woman who’d been on it for 11 mins.

I climbed to the top and pressed start. I was confident this would help the achiness in my knees and it’s just climbing stairs, right? I pressed start. And slowly the stairs began to move. It was like walking up an escalator.

I looked to the right. The younger woman was on level six. The lady to my left was on level four. I was on level one. Way too slow. So I pressed the intensity button to level 5, right in between the two people nearest me.

I could feel my heart starting to pound, suddenly trying to catch the breath that was escaping me. My knees started to feel weaker. This is bad. But my pride wouldn’t let me stop.

I kept pushing on, trying to control my breath, ignore my knees and avoid looking into the light. My goal was to do 15 minutes on this thing. I grabbed my bottle of water and glimpsed the timer. Three minutes! There’s no way I would last for another 12 minutes on the StairMaster Devil.

My legs started to tremble, and I eyeballed the emergency stop button. I punched it embarrassingly as I tried to catch my breath. The young woman next to me glanced over and I hung my head in shame. She asked if I was okay.

“No, I was trying to keep up with you and couldn’t.”

She stopped her workout. “You know, I had to work my way up to this point. I started off on level one and increased over time. You should really go by what you can do, not by someone else’s standard.”

Of course she was right. Why did I feel obligated to keep up with her? She introduced herself as Mandy and we both got off the StairMaster Devil (that’s my new name for it) and went to the change room. I didn’t have any more energy to do anything else and I felt embarrassed.

“Look,” she said, “make a workout plan that you can follow that’s good for you and your goals. Don’t watch or compare yourself to anyone else, you can really hurt yourself. Plus, it’s definitely not necessary since we’re all on different journeys.”

Mandy said she had been going to the gym for five years. She also plays pickleball and volleyball.

“Not to be rude, but it’s going to be a long while before you can keep up with me.”

We both laughed.